


Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

by shealynn88



Series: Old Before Their Time [4]
Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, S1E21, references to canon rape attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-11
Updated: 2007-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: She just wants to put it all behind her.





	Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

At first, Billy thinks she's just avoiding him. It seems like an awful lot of effort to take on account of one kiss, but he's never understood women all that well. And he'll admit, it was a stupid thing to do. 

He'd do it again in a heartbeat if she let him, but that doesn't make it any less stupid.

Later in the week, he hears some things that make him think it's not just him she's avoiding. 

And then he starts to worry.

When he hears she's back at work, he stops in after the dinner rush and sits at one of her tables.

She shakes her head when she catches sight of him. "Billy Riggins. What can I get you?"

"Hey, Tyra Collette. Where've you been?"

"Out. Bud Light or Lonestar?" She doesn't look up from the pad but he can tell by the set of her jaw that she doesn't want to talk about it.

"Tyra, what's going on?"

She juts out her chin and gives him a look. "I'm working, here. Do you want a beer or not?"

"Lonestar. Where've you been?"

She takes her time writing it down. "I took a coupla days off. People do that sometimes." She looks up. "Not _you_, I know—you just quit when you need a break—but some of us can't afford that."

He doesn't take the bait. Tim has pretty much done that one to death. "I heard you've been outta school."

She looks up at him in irritation. "What is this? Twenty questions? So I played hooky. Sue me." She's starting to look pissed, and he decides he'd better get to the point before she leaves.

"Look, Randy said he saw you over at the Alamo Freeze the other night. You were with some guy and you seemed real upset. I just didn't know if there was something—" 

She cuts him off. "It was nothin'." She smiles a razor-sharp warning. When he reaches out to touch her arm, she jerks back.

His stomach drops. "Jesus, Tyra, what the hell happened?"

"Nothing _happened_. Jesus, Billy, I'm _fine_. Look, I have to get back to work, what do you want?" She raises her pen expectantly, but he ignores it.

"Did he hurt you? Was it that kid at the game the other day?" He remembers how the boy kept leaning in; Christ, he should have beaten the hell outta him right then. "Jesus, Tyra. I will—he won't ever touch you again." He grabs his coat and starts to get up, but she pushes him down.

"Leave it alone, Billy! It wasn't him! It was just some guy—" she stops suddenly and glares.

"Tyra," he says softly. "What happened?"

She drops her head and her hair falls in her face and he has to clench his fists to keep from brushing it back. 

"Nothing, Billy. Nothing happened." Her voice is quiet. "He…he tried, you know, but it was fine." She laughs a little, but he hears it catch in her throat. She looks up. "I burned the hell out of his face. Mighta broken his hand." 

He watches her swallow and he wishes he could touch her, but he can't watch her flinch away again. 

"I can take care of myself." She turns away. "I'll have Pam bring you a cheeseburger," she says over her shoulder, and it's soft but matter-of-fact, and he knows she won't be back.

A burn and a broken hand aren't much to go on, but Billy has nothing but time.

***

Life is just starting to feel normal again when she gets a call from the cops.

"Miss Tyra Collette?"

She's had enough encounters to know that when the police are polite—that's when you worry. 

"Yes?"

"Miss Collette, I was wondering if you'd be available today to come down to the station."

She swallows. She's sick of being an exhibit and she's sick of answering questions. "Well, I gotta work tonight, can I come down tomorrow?" _Please, please say tomorrow._

"Miss Collette, we believe we might have the man who attacked you. We need you here as soon as possible. Do you need a ride?"

Tyra stiffens. It takes an effort to keep her voice steady. "No. No, I'll be there as soon as I can."

She's expecting a lineup—a bunch of dirty guys with crewcuts and wide faces, some bound to be familiar in a town as small as Dillon.

But apparently she's been watching too many crime shows, because they just lead her back to the room they first questioned her in and sit her down with a folder of 8x10's.

She doesn't recognize him at first. He looks different with his nose broken and his eyes swollen shut. But then she sees the burn on his face—perfectly round and blistered, and one shuddering breath escapes before she can choke it back. _I won't cry in front of them. I won't._

For a long, shocking moment she thinks he's dead, and she's nauseous and glad and sick all at once. Then she sees the tubes winding under his nose and she knows that he's in the hospital, not the morgue.

The disappointment makes her sicker.

"It's him," she finally says. She gestures vaguely at her face and then forces her hands down on the table. She meets the cop's eyes. "That's the burn." She glances down again before she can stop herself. "What happened?"

"We were hoping you might be able to tell _us._"

She feels her face go still at the accusation. She knew from the beginning that somehow they'd make it her fault. And here it is—he thinks _she_ did this.

As if the guy didn't deserve it in the first place.

But it _wasn't_ her, even if she sort of wishes it was, and she doesn't know who did it—

Except that she does, she realizes suddenly. Three people know what happened. And only one of them solves his problems by beating the crap out of them.

"I don't know," she says. "Maybe he attacked someone else."

The officer watches her for a long time, and she meets his gaze head-on. She doesn't care what he thinks. 

Finally, he waves at her; a dismissal. "I thank you for your help, Miss Collette. We'll call if we need anything further."

"Thank you."

Her steps are slow and measured as she leaves and she makes it to the truck before she breaks down. She sobs so hard her ribs ache and her head feels hollow, but it's the kind of ache that she knows will leave her stronger when it's over.

***

The next time Billy comes in, he sits in Pam's section. Tyra wonders if it's to give her space or to make her come to him. If it was Tim she'd know. But Billy isn't his brother.

She doesn't know if that's good or bad.

She has five tables keeping her busy, but she can feel him at her back. She knows when he's on his second beer. She knows when his steak is up. She knows when he asks for the check.

She'd say 'sorry' if she could. Or 'thank you.' But it was a stupid thing for him to do, and she just wants to forget the whole thing ever happened.

He's just finishing his last beer when she comes to a decision and slides into the seat across from him. She's never run from anything. She's not about to start now. "Hey."

He looks up in surprise. "Tyra."

"Look," she says. "We're real busy today, but I just wanted to tell you one of the bartenders is plannin' on leaving. You know, if you're interested. Or if that real estate thing doesn't work out."

His smile is a little crooked and he raises an eyebrow. "You stopped to tell me about a job?"

She can't help but smile at his surprise. "Yeah."

"Well…thanks."

She nods and gets up. "You, too. Tell Dave if you want an interview. I'll put in a good word for you."

It's the best she can do. The look in his eyes says he understands.


End file.
